


better make it count

by Kangoo



Series: Front toward enemy [24]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, mission aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 16:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20838206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangoo/pseuds/Kangoo
Summary: Lek is frustrated. Drifter is, unfortunately for him, the reason for that.





	better make it count

**Author's Note:**

> me and [arcquos](https://twitter.com/ArcquosDraws) (who Lek belongs to! check out his art!) did the last Thorn mission today.
> 
> it took us. 1:27:35.
> 
> one hour. twenty seven minutes. and thirty five fucking seconds.
> 
> let's just say we were a tad frustrated by the end of it! just a lil' bit!

The walls of his little hideout shake with a distant _slam _and the Drifter is all of the sudden filled with a profound sense of foreboding. He just knows, in his heart and soul, that something bad is going to happen. He tries to see the bright side of things. How bad could it be, really, here in the Tower? There’s a hundred Guardians between him and the next big threat and he hasn’t done anything terrible enough lately to have them turn against him.

But it’s hard to be a glass half full kinda guy when you see Lek Tephan round the corner and stalks straight towards you.

She’s not exactly at her best. Her armor is more holes than not: what little clothes hasn’t been torn to shreds is visibly charred and, in places, still smoking. She’s also covered head to toes in drying blood and Hive fluids, her pure white fluff of hair sticking with sweat. He’s never seen her in such a bad state — and she’s a Gambit regular, so that’s saying something.

Razel streams in after her, waving limply in greeting. His robes are still on fire in a few spots but he doesn’t seem to be worried about it or in a hurry to deal with this issue, so Drifter doesn’t feel the need to help him on that front. He looks like he has it handled already.

They look like they just crawled straight out of hell. And by the way Lek glares at him as she crosses the room in a few strides, she fully intends to send him there in her place by the end of the night.

Cool. Not worrying at all.

He’s kind of surprised when she stops in front of him instead of straight up decking him. He’s pretty sure she’s considering it still. Her expression is hard to tell under the grime but the murder intent coming off of her is unmistakable.

Didn’t he send her somewhere? Titan, maybe? He thinks he remembers saying something about the Hive.

“Back alive, I see!” He grins, opening his hands as if to say, _isn’t it great when it does that_. “I take it it went well.”

She takes in a deep, _slow_ breath, closes her eyes, pursues her lips. Her entire demeanor says _Traveler grants me patience_. Then she releases it, equally slow, and bring her clasped hands forward.

Then she stops, as if looking for the right words.

“It did not,” she finally settles on, strained. It is said with the kind of emphasis born from barely-restrained fury, and a vagueness that suggests great pain to anyone who asks for clarification. Drifter crosses his arms over his chest to stop himself from cringing back. “So I’d really appreciate the fucking gun now.”

He blinks. “Oh. I don’t have it.”

What he means is, _he_ doesn’t have it. Banshee does: he’s the weapon smith. Drifter doesn’t know much about guns beyond how to shoot them.

What she hears is, he _doesn’t have it_. As in: she did all of this for nothing.

And _then_, she decks him.


End file.
